


After summers of fasting, I feel hunger at last.

by gobbygoblin



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Apologies, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, My First AO3 Post, No beta we die like stregobor should have, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Tags May Change, everyone bullies geralt for his decisions, i don't know where i'm going with this, jaskier is angry at geralt and has every right to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:02:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gobbygoblin/pseuds/gobbygoblin
Summary: Jaskier is doing perfectly fine by himself, thank you very much. He doesn’t need Geralt to protect him. He doesn’t need Geralt at all. (That’s a lie.) But suddenly he is thrust into a situation in which Geralt needs him. Oh, how the turntables…
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Vesemir
Comments: 1
Kudos: 50





	After summers of fasting, I feel hunger at last.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is my first ever work on ao3 and it's only because my best friend suggested I write something. I have no idea where i'm going with this so bear with me here. 
> 
> The title and subsequent chapters are from the song Battle Cries by The Amazing Devil (you should check out their music!)

Jaskier was having a lovely night, until he wasn’t. 

He sang at a tavern in Ellander that evening, earning a fair amount of coin, and for once the patrons didn’t request Toss a Coin. Or Her Sweet Kiss. Or any song that reminded him of his sad, sad, unrequited love for Geralt, really. It was all very refreshing. He didn’t even feel the need to drink himself into oblivion! All in all, a good night. 

Of course, things had to go wrong. 

It all started as he was walking out of the tavern, back to the inn he was staying at. Of course Jaskier noticed the Nilfgaardian soldiers in the crowd watching him perform, but he hadn’t expected them to follow him out. His heart picked up as he realized he was being followed. He kept walking, pretending not to notice them, but inwardly he was panicking, trying to think of a way out of the inevitable mess. Currently, Jaskier had two daggers on him. One in his boot, and one stashed in a hidden pocket in his doublet. He was quite skilled with them too, thank you very much. But he was outnumbered, four to one. And the Nilfgaardians all had swords. Jaskier cursed at his luck. 

Stopping, Jaskier pretended to adjust his lute strap. In reality, he was slipping the dagger from inside his doublet into his sleeve. The soldiers were catching up to him. 

_ “Where ya going, pretty bard?”  _ One of the men called out, his words slurred together. Good, they were drunk. It made an escape much easier. Jaskier ignored the man and kept walking. 

_ “Come on little bard, sing us a song!”  _ Another called out. This time, Jaskier turned around to face the group. 

“Gentleman, gentlemen,” Jaskier called to them, smiling. “I am quite tired from my performance, but I promise I will be back to perform tomorrow, you can come and watch me then!” That was a lie. 

_ “I don’t think we can wait, bard _ .” The third Nilfgaardian smiled nastily and put a hand on his sword. He wasn’t quite as drunk as the others.  _ “Go on little bird, sing us a song.” _

_ Fuck.  _ Jaskier was surrounded now. 

“And what if I’m not in the mood to sing?” He asked.

_ “Then we’ll just make you sing ourselves,”  _ said the fourth Nilfgaardian, drawing his quite filthy blade. The rest of them followed suit. This was going swimmingly, wasn’t it? Currently, Jaskier’s best option was to stab someone and run. Which is what he decided to do.

And just like that, chaos erupted. Jaskier acted quickly, using the drunk state of the men to his advantage. He plunged his dagger into the heart of the first man, and took off sprinting. The other three all shouted and began running after him. Jaskier mourned the loss of that dagger. It wasn’t special or anything, but he bought it from a rather famous blacksmith. He was glad it wasn’t the dagger in his boot, however. Geralt had gifted him that one. 

_________________

_ “I got you something,” Geralt said, as he walked into their shared room at the inn.  _

_ “A present?” Marveled Jaskier, sitting up. _

_ “Not really,” answered Geralt as he handed Jaskier a sheathed dagger. “Here.” The hilt was beautifully decorated with painted yellow flowers; buttercups. Jaskier gingerly took the blade with tears in his eyes. Geralt looked taken aback; had he done something wrong? Before Geralt could apologize, the bard stood up and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug, even for a witcher.  _

_ “Oh my darling witcher, you didn’t need to!” He cried, as Geralt hesitantly wrapped his arms around the bard and returned the hug.  _

_ “I did need to. You need to be able to protect yourself,” Geralt told him, the words “in the rare occasion when I am not there to do it myself” going unsaid.  _

_ That night was better than most. Jaskier gave one of the best performances of his life, and afterwards he even managed to make Geralt a little tipsy. When they stumbled up to the room together they ended up talking until the sun came up. The both of them regretted staying up so late, but privately, to each man, the stories were worth it.  _

_________________

While that memory was nice, it certainly wasn’t going to help Jaskier in any capacity at the moment. He was still running from the drunken soldiers, who were still yelling after him. The inn was only a few buildings away, but Jaskier had to make sure he lost the Nilfgaardians first. He surveyed the street as he was running, and ducked into an alley; maybe he could scale the side of a building and hopefully lose the soldiers on his tail. 

_ “Come on bard, we know your witcher is near. Just tell us where he is and we won’t kill you,”  _ shouted the most sober of the bunch, as the group advanced towards the alley Jaskier had run into.  _ What?  _ If Nilfgaard was looking for Geralt then he must’ve gone and claimed his child surprise. And if they knew Geralt was near then he most certainly was in danger, including the Cintran princess.  _ Fuck.  _ Jaskier would have to go and find them, wouldn’t he. Pushing that worry to the back of his mind, Jaskier surveyed the alley and found a suitable place to start climbing the wall.

Despite what Geralt often thought, Jaskier wasn’t completely helpless. In fact, he wasn’t helpless at all. For starters, he was downright wicked with a dagger, and rather good at fencing, thanks to his noble upbringing. He was a traveling bard for the gods’ sake, he had to defend himself without Geralt  _ somehow.  _ He was also quite agile, being able to climb almost any wall and out of any window, which was a skill he learned when fleeing the angry spouses of his lovers. Years of traveling with Geralt taught him his medicinal skills, and also some time spent with Shani at Oxenfurt. Jaskier was also much stronger than he let on, because one grows quite strong after walking all over the continent every year with a lute on their back. All in all, Jaskier was quite capable of doing many things, which included scaling this  _ godsforsaken wall.  _

Starting to climb up, Jaskier came up with an even better plan. As he was halfway up the wall, the soldiers ran into the alley, and started looking around. 

_ “Where did that fucker go?” _ Said the man with the filthy blade, the one with the nasty smile standing right next to him. The third man was not far behind.  _ Right where Jaskier wanted them.  _

And then Jaskier jumped. He landed next to one of the men, and with a well-placed punch to the jaw knocked him unconscious. The other man was momentarily stunned, and Jaskier used his confusion to knock him out as well, and drew the dagger from his boot as the third man ran towards him, sword in hand. 

_ “You won’t get away so easily, bard!”  _ The soldier cried. 

Oh, but he did, he did get away easily. A dagger against a sword wasn’t exactly a fair match, but when Jaskier was the one wielding the dagger the odds tipped graciously in his favor. Not to mention the soldier was a bit intoxicated. He lacked proper footwork and coordination and Jaskier was slippery, easily finding an opening in which he could stab his opponent. It was a quick affair, just a nice jab to the abdomen. Letting the soldier fall, he quickly left the alley and went resumed his walk to the inn. 

His thoughts went back to what the soldiers had said about Geralt. 

_ He had to get the hell out of here.  _

**Author's Note:**

> so that was the first chapter! I have never really written anything before so please be as critical as you want in the comments.


End file.
